Hobson I hated sleeping. As a child, I was always afraid of getting hurt if I slept. I didn’t trust my father, and I had hardly known my mother. As much as I couldn’t stand my uncle sometimes, I suppose his hospitality for that little while was much-needed. Apparently, Nolan hated sleeping just as much as I did. He was looking at it again: my identification. This weapon had been the one thing that I cared about for the last 24 hours. Him not sleeping was all a part of his “chaos control,” I assumed. I shook my head. The other two got a good night’s rest, so once they had woken up, we continued on. We wasted our time everywhere we went. No one we encountered had anything new to say, if they had anything at all. “Maybe you should just start blowing shit up. I’d be all for it,” Nolan chimed in. “Yeah, I don’t see why not. This is getting annoying,” Hal added. Orendidn't say a word. I wondered why. He was bent on getting his sister back. Or, he tried to make us think that. I just didn’t see that conviction in him. If he did have a sister, I assumed she was dead. “Funny, you guys. Just a few hours ago you were saying differently.” “Yeah, well…” Nolan had nothing to retort with. Hypocrites. All of them: hypocrites. We approached an old building, which looked to be pretty well intact. Possibly something of use, I thought. For some reason, I was the only one who wanted to look around. For that, I was rewarded, as I found a plastic explosive. Along with my rocket launcher, my inventory had become full of irony. Years ago, everything I had owned and loved was burned right in front of me, by my father. Now, I have the power to set the world ablaze. Just as I picked up the explosive, several hooded figures, seemingly out of nowhere. One man, in particular, was especially interested in me. But, his eyes did not wander where Nolan’s had so often in the past two days. No, his eyes met mine, and he looked at me as if I were a real person. The other three were in the room, but they were no more a part of this conversation as the rest of the hoods. He said his name was Alex. It was just the two of us, talking as men. “Hey man, I am interested in you, very interested. We need people like you. We’ve been here for three days and couldn't find a thing. I am impressed.” “Go on.” I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me, or being genuine. I tended to think the latter, but there was something different about this situation. He approached me; it was telling, or seemed to be.
“Well, we just think you could be of great help to us. We have crossbows, arrows; weapons like that. Then he signaled to my rocket launcher.
“You don’t need that thing, man. You don’t need that. But we need you; we need people like you to scavenge, man.” The comment about my weapon was the only thing I cared to respond to.
“What do you mean, I ‘don’t need that?’”
“It’s simple, man. We don’t believe in technology like that. We have crossbows, shit like that. You don’t need that, man. If you’re going to join us, you’ll have to leave that behind, man. You’re better than that.” Obviously, he didn’t know me very well. Hal chimed in saying, “Hey, I’ll take that off of your hands.” I ignored him. I wonder if he’s still sour about giving me his steak knife.
“I need this.”
“No, man, no you don’t. You’re better than that, man. You don’t need that.”
“I need this. You don’t understand.”
“That’s cool. But, if you ever change your mind… just think about it. You’re better than that.”
As we moved forward, I kept replaying our conversation in my head. ‘You’re better than that…” What did he mean? Better than what? The only thing I have to me is a source of intimidation. If I were to give that up, I might as well be giving up my life. It is slim enough as it stands now. We’ve been wandering, finding nothing, and talking to useless person after useless person. We were not getting anywhere. But still, amidst all of my frustration, all I could think about was that conversation with Alex. I had a feeling that I would be well-respected within their group. But, he expecting me to give up my rocket launcher was like him expecting me to sell my soul. Every soul has its price, I’m sure. But, what would I have gotten in return? It’s not like he wanted to take my rocket launcher. No, it wasn’t that at all. He just wanted me to leave it behind.
If I were to leave it behind, I’d feel like that repressed younger version of myself, right after my possessions were burned in front of me. I’d feel useless; incomplete, again.I feel that now, in fact. But, I had an eye for detail and an eye for those who don’t quite fit. No one in my group fits. I am aware of Nolan’s sketchy behavior and the way he eyes up my weapon. I question Oren’s motivation, as he does not appear to be concerned about his “lost sister” at all. And then there’s Hal. I question where he is leading us, and if he is actually leading all of us to our death. Maybe he knows exactly what’s at Hart’s Mill… maybe.
I questioned myself. I’m thinking about Alex, and the rest of the hooded men. I don’t want to sleep; I doubt Nolan does either. I rest against my weapon; my identity. My eyes are fixed upon everyone else, and I feel unhinged. I tried to close my eyes, only for a few seconds at a time.
Maybe being a bandit wasn’t such a bad idea.I’ll never know.
I hated sleeping. As a child, I was always afraid of getting hurt if I slept. I didn’t trust my father, and I had hardly known my mother. As much as I couldn’t stand my uncle sometimes, I suppose his hospitality for that little while was much-needed.
Apparently, Nolan hated sleeping just as much as I did. He was looking at it again: my identification. This weapon had been the one thing that I cared about for the last 24 hours. Him not sleeping was all a part of his “chaos control,” I assumed. I shook my head.
The other two got a good night’s rest, so once they had woken up, we continued on. We wasted our time everywhere we went. No one we encountered had anything new to say, if they had anything at all.
“Maybe you should just start blowing shit up. I’d be all for it,” Nolan chimed in.
“Yeah, I don’t see why not. This is getting annoying,” Hal added.
Oren didn't say a word. I wondered why. He was bent on getting his sister back. Or, he tried to make us think that. I just didn’t see that conviction in him. If he did have a sister, I assumed she was dead.
“Funny, you guys. Just a few hours ago you were saying differently.”
“Yeah, well…” Nolan had nothing to retort with.
Hypocrites. All of them: hypocrites.
We approached an old building, which looked to be pretty well intact. Possibly something of use, I thought. For some reason, I was the only one who wanted to look around. For that, I was rewarded, as I found a plastic explosive. Along with my rocket launcher, my inventory had become full of irony. Years ago, everything I had owned and loved was burned right in front of me, by my father. Now, I have the power to set the world ablaze.
Just as I picked up the explosive, several hooded figures, seemingly out of nowhere. One man, in particular, was especially interested in me. But, his eyes did not wander where Nolan’s had so often in the past two days. No, his eyes met mine, and he looked at me as if I were a real person.
The other three were in the room, but they were no more a part of this conversation as the rest of the hoods. He said his name was Alex. It was just the two of us, talking as men.
“Hey man, I am interested in you, very interested. We need people like you. We’ve been here for three days and couldn't find a thing. I am impressed.”
“Go on.” I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me, or being genuine. I tended to think the latter, but there was something different about this situation. He approached me; it was telling, or seemed to be.
“Well, we just think you could be of great help to us. We have crossbows, arrows; weapons like that. Then he signaled to my rocket launcher.
“You don’t need that thing, man. You don’t need that. But we need you; we need people like you to scavenge, man.” The comment about my weapon was the only thing I cared to respond to.
“What do you mean, I ‘don’t need that?’”
“It’s simple, man. We don’t believe in technology like that. We have crossbows, shit like that. You don’t need that, man. If you’re going to join us, you’ll have to leave that behind, man. You’re better than that.”
Obviously, he didn’t know me very well.
Hal chimed in saying, “Hey, I’ll take that off of your hands.” I ignored him. I wonder if he’s still sour about giving me his steak knife.
“I need this.”
“No, man, no you don’t. You’re better than that, man. You don’t need that.”
“I need this. You don’t understand.”
“That’s cool. But, if you ever change your mind… just think about it. You’re better than that.”
As we moved forward, I kept replaying our conversation in my head. ‘You’re better than that…” What did he mean? Better than what? The only thing I have to me is a source of intimidation. If I were to give that up, I might as well be giving up my life. It is slim enough as it stands now.
We’ve been wandering, finding nothing, and talking to useless person after useless person. We were not getting anywhere.
But still, amidst all of my frustration, all I could think about was that conversation with Alex. I had a feeling that I would be well-respected within their group. But, he expecting me to give up my rocket launcher was like him expecting me to sell my soul. Every soul has its price, I’m sure. But, what would I have gotten in return? It’s not like he wanted to take my rocket launcher. No, it wasn’t that at all. He just wanted me to leave it behind.
If I were to leave it behind, I’d feel like that repressed younger version of myself, right after my possessions were burned in front of me. I’d feel useless; incomplete, again. I feel that now, in fact. But, I had an eye for detail and an eye for those who don’t quite fit. No one in my group fits. I am aware of Nolan’s sketchy behavior and the way he eyes up my weapon. I question Oren’s motivation, as he does not appear to be concerned about his “lost sister” at all. And then there’s Hal. I question where he is leading us, and if he is actually leading all of us to our death. Maybe he knows exactly what’s at Hart’s Mill… maybe.
I questioned myself. I’m thinking about Alex, and the rest of the hooded men. I don’t want to sleep; I doubt Nolan does either. I rest against my weapon; my identity. My eyes are fixed upon everyone else, and I feel unhinged. I tried to close my eyes, only for a few seconds at a time.
Maybe being a bandit wasn’t such a bad idea.I’ll never know.